The Mobster and the Princess
by ZoeWhoWaited
Summary: AU: Emily Quartermaine is a princess drowning in a sexist and oppressive royal system. Sonny Corinthos is a mobster with a heart of gold. They meet and sparks fly and soon so do the bullets. Emily's father is hiding a secret that could being ruin to the royal house. Agents of the covert spy agency the King's Silence are silencing members of the royal family. Can Sonny save Emily?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I am so sorry for the formatting error that occurred when this chapter was originally posted. I have no idea what happened but it happened to three of my stories. All of which are now corrected.**

**PROLOGUE**

_Salem Boarding School_

_Winston Salem, North Carolina_

_June 2003_

Emily shut the book she had been assigned in her honor's English Literature class. Grimm's Fairy Tales, what a joke! The stories were completely sexist, unrealistic, and rather sadistic. Walt Disney must have taken some artistic license with his films because she couldn't remember a scene in Cinderella where the Evil Stepmother was punished by being forced to dance until her feet were nothing but bloody stumps and she blew up. A story like that would be hard to forget. She couldn't believe that she had been assigned this ink and paper insult to all things feminist at her all-girls boarding school.

"What's got you huffing and puffing princess?" A mischievous voice rang in her ears.

Emily rolled her eyes. She had forgotten that she was not alone in the common room. Far from it, it was the last day of the school year and everyone was there; crammed on the sofas, sprawled out in the armchairs and sitting at the few small, round study tables. They were all waiting on their rides home. The normal smells of pine and and apple that normally clung to the room were overpowered by what smelt like twenty different perfumes. Were her roommates bathing in the stuff?

"Don't call me that," She chastised her best friend Charlie. She hated being reminded of the accident of birth that had doomed her into being royalty. "Or during our entire trip to Boston next month I'm going to call you Charlotte." She smirked. "Even in front of him."

Charlie's face paled slightly. She hated her real name and she really hated the idea of being addressed with it in front of her crush Dante Morris. He was an actor on some stupid crime drama show that Charlie was obsessed with. Charlie wanted to join the FBI when she graduated college and loved anything to do with crime. Dante Morris was going to be holding a fan event in his hometown of Boston and and when Charlie begged her to go with her...she begged her hard. Emily hadn't had to clean her own dorm room for the last month. She agreed and her grandfather was going to chaperone the trip.

"Okay, I'll stop!" Charlie said quickly,

"I hate you guys." Their other dorm mate Lyric groaned from her spot on the floor where she was sitting indian style strumming on her guitar. "I would kill to see that man again."

Lyric was a country western singer who toured the world during the summers and only attended Salem part time when she wasn't working and homeschooled the rest of the time. She had met Dante Morris the previous summer at some awards show and was even more in love with him than Charlie was.

"Now, seriously, what did that book do to tick you off?" Charlie asked again.

"It's completely sexist and totally unrealistic. Who wants a guy to take care of them? And what princess actually enjoys being a princess?" She shoved the book into her favorite, worn out old messenger bag. It had the band logo of *BLAZE*, the boy band she had been obsessed with as a pre-teen. She knew it had seen better days but she just couldn't bring herself to part with it. "I can't believe that's what I 've been assigned for my summer reading."

"Careful Em, you are way too young to be so jaded." The school's Head Girl Ella spoke up as she gathered up her stuff. She was four years older and was like a big sister to a lot of the girls. She was the one whose door you knocked on in the middle of the night when you were so homesick that you wanted to cry.

"Try living my life sometime and than we'll talk." She shot back.

Ella just laughed as she headed out the door. "See ya next term!" She called,

"I don't know, I like the Disney version of those stories." Little seven-year-old Chloe piped up. It was the end of her first year at Salem and she was usually very shy and quiet, She was sitting with a group of elementary students who were being looked after by Miss Russo, the drama teacher, while they waited on their rides home. "It's nice to think that happily ever after exists." She put in her two-cents.

"Fairy tales mean different things to everyone Emily." Miss Russo chided. Emily would have been annoyed if it had been any other teacher butting into the conversation but Miss Russo was cool. She was only in her mid twenties and had been a popular television actress when she was a teenager. "They can give people hope for the future like with Chloe. They can teach a moral lesson or they can annoy jaded young princesses. Everyone thinks and feels things differently."

"You have to say that, you're a teacher." Emily protested.

"My job as a teacher means that I'm supposed to teach you drama, yes. But it also means that It is my job to tell you the truth and prepare you for life in the real world." Miss Russo pointed out. "And the truth is that I am a divorced single mother who still believes in happily ever after."

"You forget Miss Russo, I don't live in the real world." Emily just couldn't let it go. "I live in a royal bubble that's stuck in the nineteenth century."

"You do live in the real world Emily." Miss Russo smiled at her warmly. "You are just not mature enough to see that yet."

Emily didn't have a comeback for that.

"So, Miss Russo, if it's your job to tell us the truth, where do babies come from?" It was Ireland, the dorm comedian and Senator's daughter. Emily thought that she had already gone.

"How long have you been here?"

"The whole time." Ireland laughed.

"Ireland, ask your health teacher next term." Miss Russo answered distractedly while looking at her cell phone. She never took Ireland's bait. "Chloe, sweetheart, your mom is outside." She snapped her phone shut.

Little Chloe gathered up her things, a Disney Princess duffel bag and a stuffed dragon, and headed out the door rather slowly as Miss Russo again checked her phone. "Emily, your grandfather is also here." She announced. "The fairy tale discussion is tabled until next year."

Emily headed out the door towards a summer and a life that she in no way could have seen coming. But then neither did the others.


	2. Chapter 2

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is AU so Sonny has never been with Carly, Brenda, Lily, or anyone on the show. The Sonny in this story is more like the Sonny that first appeared on the show in 1993. Sexy, cocky, dangerous, and not trying to repopulate the town of Port Charles all by himself. Seriously, the last count was FIVE children with four different women. Our beloved sensitive mobster with the heart of gold is now one of the world's most prolific baby daddies. He's up there with K-Fed now. Sorry, ranting, my bad. Anyway, the reason this story is so AU is because it was not originally a General Hospital story. It wasn't even a fanfiction story. I just was having trouble finishing it so I tweaked a few characters and the town and this story was the end result.**_

**CHAPTER ONE**

Princess Emily took a deep breath and tried to ignore the fluttery feeling in her stomach. Those two RedBull's and three Five Hour Energy Shots she had had on the plane had probably been a bad idea but she was switching time zones for the fifth time in less than two months and she needed the extra energy to keep herself awake. She put on a small, polite smile and stepped out of the diplomatic limousine with a helping hand from her twelve-year-old little brother Prince Oliver. She was immediately hit by the bitter smell of coffee in the air. It was being carried inland from the coffee bean warehouse on the docks.

This was Emily's first time being the senior most member of the royal family on a goodwill tour. Her father King Alexander of Cotia, a small but mighty country in western Europe, had been in very poor health for the past few years. Her mother, Queen Adora, had passed away from breast cancer when Emily was sixteen. Because of those facts Abigail had been forced to take on more and more of her father's duties as ruler. She was the first born; heir to the throne of Cotia. At the age of nineteen she was only too aware that sometime in the very near future her father was going to die and she would be left to care for her brother and her country alone. There was one good thing about her heavy workload. She was kept so busy that she very rarely had time to think yet alone worry.

Emily and Oliver were on the last leg of a four month goodwill tour of the United States. The tour had focused on the smaller cities and towns in order to promote better trade with Cotia, a country known for it's small farming towns. The tour's last stop was a two-week stay in upstate New York in a small town called Port Charles. Port Charles was a coastal town and the Cotiaian government was in talks with America in the hope of gaining a contract to use the town's docks for imports. The siblings were scheduled to visit a local hospital, an AID's clinic, a Catholic church, and finally the local coffee bean factory. This did not include the many dinner parties and balls the palace had promised they would attend.

As the small group, with royal bodyguards flanking them on all sides, and Emily's lady-in-waiting and Oliver's tutor bringing up the rear, they made their way down the sidewalk in front of the MetroCourt Hotel, Spa, and Resort. Emily and Oliver shook hands with and stopped to talk to as many people as they could. The sidewalk was packed with so many people you could no longer see the cement. Emily had long ago gotten used to being mobbed by excited "royal watchers", as fans of royalty were called. Royal Watchers tended to be more hysterical in countries without monarchies. These admirers of royalty wished for but did not have kings and queens in their homelands and so looked around the world and picked a dynasty that they could most relate to. Once they did this they adopted that monarchy as their own. As the group made it to the spinning, glass front doors of the hotel they quickly made their way inside.

Emily hated the hotel the minute she stepped foot in the lobby. The lights were way too bright and the walls were too white. This combination was enough to give anyone a headache. The air had that awful sanitized smell of a place that was cleaned too often and too thoroughly with bleach. The only items decorating the walls were solid gold candelabras that screamed, 'Look how expensive we are!' This was clearly a hotel for the nouveau riche who wanted to flaunt their wealth. Old money had gotten that type of blatant self-promotion out of their systems a century ago. Now they stayed within their own tightly-knit circles, hardly ever allowing new members, and proudly showed off the pricey antiques that were purchased by their ancestors when they were going through their self-promotion phase.

Standing in the lobby waiting for them was a bottle blonde wearing a perfectly tailored orange business suit and enough diamonds and precious stones to feed a third world country. Emily in contrast was wearing a fifty dollar green sundress by a well known, reasonably priced Cotiaian designer and twenty dollar silver peep toe pumps that she had ordered off of the internet. Her only jewelry was a pair of diamond stud earrings and a diamond encrusted crucifix that had been a gift from her late grandfather on the day of her first Holy Communion when she was ten. Emily was mentally tallying up the amount of money the older woman's outfit must have cost when said woman began to speak.

"Princess Emily, Prince Oliver, welcome to the MetroCourt Hotel, Spa, and Resort. My name is Carly Jax. My husband and I own this hotel." She introduced herself. Her smile was fake and her tone of voice sickeningly sweet and very rehearsed. "We are so honored that you have chosen to stay with us. The entire fiftieth floor has been made up for you and your party. Room service and use of the spa are on the house. If you need anything at all please just tell a member of our staff and it will be taken care of."

Emily mentally rolled her eyes. This woman was a complete brown noser. "Thank you so much Mrs. Jax. I'm sure we will be very comfortable." She responded with a well practiced politeness that had been drilled into her head since the moment she had learned to speak.

Thankfully the pompous and overly decorated woman didn't feel the need to stick around and chat and the small group was soon standing and waiting on the elevator.

"That Jax woman had to have married well. With all those flashy jewels she has to be overcompensating for a lack of something as a child." Oliver leaned over and whispered-loudly- to his sister.

Emily's mouth fell open. While an educated and wise beyond the years of a twelve-year-old observation it was not something one said in public. This was doubly true when you lived in a fishbowl and the world press was watching your every single move just waiting for you to do something stupid that would help them sell more papers. Hearing a man softly laughing she turned and saw a man with his back to them facing the other bank of elevators. He had black, hair that looked like it was held into place with hair gel. He was wearing an expensive Italian suit. Turning her attention back to her brother she smacked him upside the head. "You don't talk about people like that in public." She scolded as the golden elevator doors opened and they stepped into the lift. "The press has already nicknamed you Oliver the Terrible. We don't need them to hear you insulting our hosts while we're on foreign soil."

Oliver had made quite a name for himself in his short life. At the age of two the press had snapped a picture of Oliver making silly faces at the Queen of England during a dinner to welcome the old woman to Cotia. The next day the morning newspapers all carried the photograph on the front page and Oliver had acquired the nickname Oliver the Terrible and he had yet to live it down. Not that he really tried to live that nickname down mind you . If anything he only seemed to encourage it. When he was seven Oliver had managed to escape from under the watchful eyes of his nanny and protection detail. He had hidden in a tree in the palace gardens reading Superman comic books for over six hours while the entire country had been placed on high alert and informed that it's young prince was missing. A massive search was in progress when Oliver finally wandered back into the palace. Their father wasn't a hands on parent by any means and usually left the discipline to the nanny but on that day King Alexander went ballistic and had taken his son in hand himself. Oliver had been forced to write a speech, which the King had insisted he re-write four times until it was up to his liking, and deliver it to the Cotiaian people on live television. Oliver's most recent public fumble had taken place that past April when the President of the United States and First Lady made their first official visit to Cotia. CNN cameras had caught him rolling his eyes at the First Lady as she gave a speech on healthy eating habits. Luckily no one had heard him refer to the American woman as a "food Nazi". Well no one besides Emily that is. Luckily Oliver had been born with their father's fair hair and baby blue eyes unlike Emily who had inherited their Spanish mother's dark hair and eyes. This light look made the young prince look like an angel even when he acted like a devil. All in all the Cotiaian people just shook their heads and laughed at the their marauding prince but were all extremely glad that he had not been born first.

"So what, I should only insult people behind closed doors?" Oliver smirked. "No thanks, I'm trying something new for a member of royalty...honesty and honestly that woman was a kiss ass."

Emily's eyes almost popped out of her head and she heard the mystery man laugh again, this time louder and longer than before, as the golden doors closed and she smacked her brother again.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Is it just me or just General Hospital going downhill? The only good thing on General Hospital right now is the fact that Johnny's back. I mean the new Jason is horrible and the writers destroyed Sonny years ago. I'm kinda hoping Johnny takes over as the show's lead mobster now that Sonny is toast. And I'm almost sure I made up Kings, Montana for another story of mine but if I didn't and it's real someone please let me know. You'll understand once you continue reading.**_

**CHAPTER TWO**

Two hours later in the Royal Suite(Emily strongly suspected the royal was a new addition to the name.) sat a most unroyal sight. Emily and Oliver sat in front of the television in the sitting room of the hotel suite, that was more like a small apartment, wearing jeans and sweaters and chowing down on greasy cheeseburgers. They were watching one of those stupid American news shows that focused on fluff pieces about celebrities and stories about dogs learning to ride bikes. You know the show, the one you only watch when you've lost the remote and are too lazy to get up and change the channel.

"I can't believe they just devoted an entire half hour to making a list of celebrities they think would make a good match for you. Do they really think that the grungy dude from those stupid vampire movies could handle being a king?" Oliver laughed as he popped a french fry into his mouth. "I'd be surprised if that guy even knew how to spell king."

Emily rolled her eyes. "Like their suggestion of Jaxson Dixon was any better?" She highly doubted that the front man for the boy band *BLAZE* would sit well with the Cotiaian people as a future king. Her best friend Charlie would also never forgive her.

"You know you have to start thinking of marriage soon sis." Oliver turned uncharacteristically serious. It seemed as though he was honestly worried about this.. "By law you have to be married by age twenty-one or you forfeit the throne."

"I know," Emily sighed as she suddenly lost her appetite. That fact hung over her head like a dark storm cloud. Time had slipped away from her. At first she was too young to worry about finding a mate and then she was simply just too busy. She would turn twenty in just a few weeks time and than twenty-one was right around the corner. She had to actively start looking but she wasn't looking forward to it. In her world marriage wasn't about love. It was about station. Marriage was about doing what was right for the monarchy, about continuing the royal line. She wasn't going to kid herself into believing that her marriage would be any different. Still she would at least like to find someone she could tolerate if not love. Emily had come close to finding her requirements during a brief, forced(by both of their fathers) courtship with a man named Jasper Lynch. He was only five years older than her and the billionaire CEO of Lynch Industries, the world's largest industrial company. He was a nice guy and a true gentleman but he wasn't the type of man Emily could see herself marrying. She had heard that, while now reformed, once upon a time Jasper had been really into the clubbing and drug scene in Kings, Montana, the largest metropolis city in the midwest. She had also heard that his love life had been rather...active. Her father liked him and was old college friends with his father Sir Robert Lynch. While Jasper's late mother had been an American socialite, his father hailed from England and had been knighted by the Queen. This gave him a touch of blue blood which Emily's father liked even more than he liked Jasper himself. A rich, socially prominent, Catholic was an acceptable husband but a rich, socially prominent, Catholic, aristocrat was prefered. The King was all about propriety and nonconformism was not a word in his rather refined vocabulary. Emily had once, while angry with her father, given rather serious thought to pulling a Rose DeWitt Bukator. While watching the movie Titanic she hatched a plan to hire an actor to pretend to be a penniless street artist and she was going to pretend to be head over heels in love with him. She had eventually calmed down, turned off the television, and remembered that her father had a weak heart and that type of prank just might kill him.

At that moment her lady-in-waiting entered the suite and gave a small curtsy. Emily wished she would stop doing that. "Ma'am, I was just about to retire for the night. Is there anything you need me to do before I go?"

A lady-in-waiting does pretty much everything a personal assistant does. The only differences were that ladies-in-waiting were titled women who were considered members of the Royal Court. They also lived in the palace, in large, comfortable apartment suites that were provided by the royal family free of charge. The position also had a lot of down sides. They were on call twenty-four seven and while they traveled the world in luxury and rubbed elbows with some of the world's most powerful and glamorous people they were unpaid for their services.

Lady Susan Withers was eighteen years old but appeared much younger due to her habit of wearing her mousy brown hair in braided pigtails. She was also incredibly shy and proper. She had come to work for Emily a little over six months ago. Her parents, the Viscount and Countess Withers were old friends of the King and Queen. Concerned about their daughter's anti-social nature and scared that it would prevent Lady Susan from finding a good, aristocratic husband they had asked the King to make her a lady-in-waiting in the hopes that the position would help cure her of her shyness. It hadn't. No matter how many times she instructed the other woman to call her Emily and not ma'am she still insisted upon doing it. She always insisted that it wasn't "proper" to call members of royalty by their christian names. The one time Emily asked instructed her not to curtsy when entering the room the poor girl looked so scandalized that Emily was worried she may faint.

"If you could go and fetch Brick for me. Tell him that I need to speak to him please. After you do that you can be done for the night." Emily smiled warmly.

"Ye...yes ma'am," Lady Susan stuttered and after giving another clumsy curtsy she quickly left the room to do as instructed.

"Why does she always get so terrified whenever I ask her to speak to Brick?" Emily asked her brother curiously.

Oliver snorted and picked up the television remote and began to channel surf. "No wonder you're still single."

She picked up a white, lace embroidered throw pillow off the couch and hit him in the face with it. "Tell me!" She ordered.

Oliver laughed. "Fine, Lady Susan has a crush on Brick."

This was news to Emily but when she really thought about it it certainly began to explain some of her lady-in-waiting's odd behavior. Like the fact that every time Lady Susan was around Brick she turned into a klutz that would make Larry, Moe, and Curly proud.

A knock came on the suite door just before a man's head appeared. "Lady Susan said you wanted to see me Emmy?"

Brick was a thirty-seven year old former United States Marine who had relocated to his late mother's homeland after leaving the service. He joined the Royal Protection squad and had been the head of Emily's protection detail for ten years. Having been raised in the homeland of the American father that he had never known Brick was not in awe of royalty and got a bit of a kick out of the people who did. He didn't grovel at Emily's feet. He also had no problem telling her when she was wrong or about to do something stupid. He hadn't bowed nor addressed her by any name or title other than Emmy since his first day on the job when she asked him not to do either. In public of course he still addressed her as ma'am and your royal highness but in private he was probably Emily's only true friend within the palace. Built like a football player he was an intimidating figure to some but a big teddy bear to her.

"Come in Brick," She invited.

Brick stepped fully into the room and took a seat on the ottoman in front of the couch. "What's up?"

"Do you think it would be possible for me to get a few minutes alone on the roof? I really need to get some air."

Brick didn't answer her. He brought his wrist up to his mouth and spoke into the microphone hidden in his suit sleeve. "Can I get a sweep of the roof and an agent posted at the door immediately. Raven will be along momentarily. ETA five minutes. I'll also need agents posted to every entrance and exit to the Royal Suite. Code Evil Blue."

"What's code Evil Blue?" Oliver asked as Emily stood and put on a light fall jacket.

"It's the code we use to inform all agents that you will be alone and that they need to step up security in order to keep you from running away." Brick responded as he held the door open for Emily.

Emily and Brick heard an indignant , "Hey!" as the door closed behind them.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER THREE**

The elevator ride to the roof was silent. Emily didn't feel like talking and Brick must have picked up on that because he kept quiet. When they made it to the door that lead to the roof the guard finally spoke.

"The roof was empty when the agents did their sweep. While guests are permitted up here we've been assured that it is almost always deserted." He informed her as he held open the heavy metal door.

"Thank you," Emily said softly as she stepped out into the crisp, New York, fall night. "I won't be too long. Please only disturb me if it's important."

"Sure thing Emmy." Brick gently closed the door.

As soon as she was alone on the roof Emily walked to the cement barricade that encased the edge of the roof and allowed one a picture perfect view of the small but busy town down below. She could see the lights from the downtown area where it looked as though traffic was backed up for miles. She could smell the same coffee scent as when she had arrived and could see the lights of the shipping vessels coming into port, bringing with them the java beans that made the coffee that Port Charles was oh so famous for. Everything was so alive here. It was a welcome change from Cotia, a medieval country with ancient wonders of architecture dotting every corner. Everything was always so silent as though the country were one giant church. Small groups of tourists wandered the streets, farmers trucked in their wares to the large outdoor markets that littered the streets. It became so boring after awhile. She hadn't come here for the view however. Reaching into the inside pocket of her coat she extracted a half-empty pack of Newport cigarettes and a Bic lighter. She lit up and took a long drag. She slowly began to relax as the calming poison filled her lungs. Emily didn't smoke often….only when she was stressed. No one knew of her habit. She would catch hell if her father ever found out. A proper lady did not smoke. She looked at smoking as her way of secretly rebelling against her father and the palace. She was always the good little princess; always doing what she was told without question. No one would expect her to smoke.

"A princess as beautiful as you shouldn't smoke." A deep, husky voice from behind her made Emily dropped her cigarette over the edge. So much for the roof always being deserted. Slowly turning around she came face to face with the most handsome man that she had ever encountered...and she had met the English princes in person. He wasn't tall, he was of average height with cinnamon skin, jet-black hair that was slicked back with gel, and dark brown, almost black, eyes. The Italian suit he was wearing did nothing to hide the fact that he had a nicely toned body. The suit and his hairstyle also gave away the fact that this was the mystery man who had laughed at Oliver's smartass comments at the elevators earlier in the night.

Emily gave him a sheepish smile. "I don't suppose you could keep the smoking thing between us could you?"

The man took a step closer to her. "No problem querida." He smiled at her and her heart almost stopped beating when he used the Spanish endearment at the same time that she noticed that he had dimples. "What are you doing up here all alone?"

"I needed a few minutes alone to be a normal person and not a princess." She answered honestly. "What about you?"

"Hiding from Carly Jax." The man laughed lightly and walked to stand beside her at the ledge. He leaned against it, turning away from her and gazed out into the night. "My company's holding an AID's fundraiser here tomorrow night. Your little brother hit the nail on the head. That woman is such a kiss ass."

Emily chuckled. Thankfully he didn't strike her as the type to go running to the press with gossip and she was enjoying talking to him. "You work for Corinthos Coffee?" She and Oliver were to be the guests of honor at that fundraiser.

The man laughed again. "You could say that. I own Corinthos Coffee." He turned to face her and held out his hand. "The name's Sonny Corinthos."

"Princess Emily Grace Bowen of Cotia." She extended her hand. "But my friends call me Emmy."

"Am I allowed to call you Emmy?" Sonny took her hand and instead of shaking it he laid a soft kiss on her knuckles.

"I do believe America is a free country Mr. Corinthos." She found herself flirting with the charming latin man. "Plus your company makes my favorite kona blend coffee so I'm likely to allow you to call me anything." She joked.

Before Sonny had a chance to respond Brick poked his head out of the roof door. "Ma'am," He bowed his head awkwardly upon noticing she wasn't alone. "The King has requested that you phone him at the palace as soon as possible."

Emily sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Time to put your tiara back on?" Sonny gave her a warm smile.

"Looks like it." She nodded and began making her way towards the door that Brick was now holding open for her.

"Hey Emmy?" Sonny called to her.

Emily had to hold back a smile and the butterflies in her stomach suddenly developed ADHD at his use of her nickname. "Yes?"

"Save a dance for me tomorrow night querida?"

She smiled and bit her lip. "I'm looking forward to it Sonny."

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FOUR**

The next morning Emily awoke at seven to Lady Susan opening the curtains of the hotel suite's bedroom. She sat up in the large four-poster bed.

"Good morning ma'am." Lady Susan curtsied.

It was most certainly not a good morning for Emily. She had phoned her father the night before as requested. He wanted to inform her of a change to her official itinerary. Before they had even left Cotia Emily had insisted that she get one day off from royal duties to relax and unwind. While she hadn't managed to get a full twenty-four hours off the palace had met her in the middle and arranged for her to have her first day in Port Charles to herself so long as she attended the AID's fundraiser that night. Her father was looking over the schedule and noticed this break in her schedule. He decided that it would not look good in the press for the Crown Princess of Cotia to spend her first day in a new town relaxing at a five star hotel and spa. She hadn't even planned on using the spa. She just wanted to lay around in her sweats reading for a few uninterrupted hours. God forbid that she be burnt out after so many months on the road. She had tried to reason with her father but he had held firm. She was going to spend the morning touring the Corinthos Warehouse where she was also expected to give a short speech. And since she disliked using the palace speechwriters, their words were too stiff and shallow, she had stayed up until two in the morning writing the speech she was to deliver to the warehouse workers. The teenage girl in her was excited at the prospect of seeing Sonny again sooner than expected but the mature adult in her had chucked the poor girl out the window so she could focus on the more important things she had to worry about. She couldn't go to pieces over a man. She was no Juliet. She lived in the real world.

"What time do we need to be at the warehouse?" She stretched her arms over her head.

"Ten ma'am." Lady Susan replied as she laid out a long, brown wool shirt and green cotton sweater for Emily to wear.

Beyond choosing colors Emily had zero say in the clothes she wore to public events. She had a personal dresser that had been assigned to her by the palace public relations office. There were strict rules as to what she could and could not wear while out in public. All of her clothes had to be neat and nice enough to show her station in life without being too showy and expensive. She was only allowed to wear clothes that were designed and made by Cotiaian citizens. When she went abroad that rule changed. She was expected to wear designers who hailed from whatever country she was visiting. All skirts and gowns were to stop no higher than one inch above the knee. The only patterns allowed were polka dots(yuck!), stripes, and floral print. The color black was only to be worn during times of mourning. Whenever she traveled she was forced to bring along what she called her 'funeral dress'. The funeral dress was a simple, black cocktail dress that stayed neatly stowed away in a hanging garment bag. The reason the dress went wherever Emily went was simple. The dress was a just in case sheath. It was there just in case a world leader or God forbid her father were to die while she was away. She could do a quick change and be seen to be paying her respects. The first time Emily could remember wearing black was in September 1997. Diana, Princess of Wales had just been killed in a horrible car crash in Paris. King Alexander had ordered that all of the flags in Cotia be lowered to half-mast and Queen Adora instructed the royal nanny to dress Emily in only black clothing for a period of one month...the official Cotiaian mourning period. Emily always remembered that period of mourning ahead of all others with the exception of her mother's and grandfather's. Princess Diana had been her idol. She was everything that Emily wanted to grow up to be. Princess Diana wasn't cold or aloof like most other royals. She smiled and laughed with her subjects. She talked to and shared hugs with them. She sat beside the beds of the sick and dying and held their hands. She devoted her entire life to charity work and being a good mother. She didn't do any of this because she was a princess and that's what was expected of her. She was just a good person who got her joy in life from helping other people. When she shook the British monarchy by walking away and divorcing Prince Charles Emily came to respect her even more. Here was a woman who only had what amounted to an American high school education who decided to challenge one of the most powerful families in the world. She fought back against archaic laws and rules of royalty and she won. Emily's little nine-year-old heart was broken when her grandfather had sat her down and gently told her of Princess Diana's death. An invitation to the funeral arrived a few days later. The invitation was for the entire Cotiaian royal family but the King and Queen forbad her from going. They felt she was too young and emotional to handle such a large, public funeral. No amount of foot stomping or hissy fits could change their minds.

Emily shook her head to clear her thoughts as Lady Susan set a breakfast tray in her lap. Bacon and eggs with toast and orange juice, her favorite. "Is Oliver awake yet?"

"Yes ma'am, Lord Ellington wanted to get an early start. They will be travelling to Manhattan today to visit a few museums."

Lord Ellington was Oliver's private tutor. After the young prince had been expelled from boarding school Lord Ellington had been brought in to privately tutor him. Lord Ellington was a middle aged Oxford graduate who used Oliver's restless nature to his advantage. A lot of his lessons included field trips. It allowed Oliver to escape royal life for a few hours every week.

"Oh," Lady Susan snapped her fingers. "A delivery came for you this morning ma'am."

"A delivery of what?" Emily asked as she nibbled on a piece of toast.

"A gift basket of Corinthos Kona Blend coffee." The young woman pulled a small white envelope from the pocket of her jeans. "It came with this." She handed it to Emily.

Beyond curious Emily set her tray aside and opened the envelope. Pulling out a note card she blushed when she read what was written.

_Just feeding your addiction. I look forward to seeing you again princess._

_Damian_

**TBC**


End file.
